When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drum...

Audition season is in full swing. Well maybe not so much of a swing, but more of a soft rocking back and forth. This year instead of a waterfall of auditions capsulated in a few very cold weeks we have a steady stream of job interviews in wildly fluctuating weather patterns. This is great for us actors. It means more opportunities to be seen by more people behind the tables and less gambling on which call to attend. Not to mention the fact that we may be able to stand outside in line and not suffer frostbite. It’s also great for everyone else associated with auditions from the rehearsal studios to the accompanists...oh the accompanists.

There is no one person, besides the actor him or herself, that can help or hinder an audition like an accompanist.

For anyone who doesn’t know what an accompanist is, it’s the person who is playing the piano at auditions. In schools it’s usually one of the voice teachers or the rehearsal pianists. In the world of big city auditions it’s a person hired for the sole purpose of sight reading and competently playing auditionees’ music. In some cases it’s actually the musical director incognito. The accompanist is the single most talked about person at any audition.

I went to an EPA (Equity Principal Audition). I had the perfect song choice for the role, a great outfit and I actually got the audition time I wanted. On top of all that I made it back to the audition in time to keep my appointment, no thanks to the New York City subway system. I was hanging out with my friend Ann waiting to sing.

Ann is a wonderful performer who works constantly. She’s non-equity. More precisely she is an Equity Membership Candidate. Equity membership candidates are people who are on the cusp of becoming Equity having worked in Equity houses, or making at least a minimum wage set by Equity, and earning points for such work. This group of people are allowed into the Equity Lounge at any time. They’re also allowed a separate sign up list for EPAs, which is called after the Equity lists are finished but before the non-equity lists are started.  Ann was waiting to see if she could audition for the same show for which I was auditioning. She had taken advantage of her down time and had already been seen for the other call that was happening.

My audition time came and I went in. I sang a new song. It’s a song I had always thought I couldn’t sing because of the range. Fortunately the range wasn’t a problem. However in “the moment” I had forgotten a few lyrics. I mumbled through them and kept going. It’s not really a big thing, but being the perfectionist that I am it was a big thing in my head. I thanked the accompanist who was lovely and competent and I confidently walked out of the room.

I told Ann what had happened. She promptly told me what she does in those kind of circumstances. Whenever she feels she messes up a song, which I don’t imagine Ann ever doing, she takes the “get right back on the horse” approach. She finds an audition to immediately go to. Even if she isn’t right for the show Ann goes in and sings the song she just “screwed up” and gets it right. She told me about the other call happening at the studio, which I hadn’t planned on attending. She suggested that I do go and sing the song again to get it right. So I did.

I walked into the other audition room and spoke to the accompanist. And away we went. I got all of the lyrics right and all of the notes right...no thanks to the accompanist. I have no idea what he was playing. I think he went to the “um-chuck” school of music. Because that’s what his playing sounded like: “Um-chuck um-chuck um-chuck um-chuck”. And I know it wasn’t me or my music having literally just sang the song five minutes ago with a competent pianist.

I came out and told Ann what had happened. It turns out the accompanist is a friend of hers. And she agreed with my assessment. I’ve since decided that all accompanists basically fall into one of four categories (and at times more than just one):

    Concert

     Competent

     Crazy

     Cacophonous

Of these four types of accompanists I personally only want two to play my auditions, the Competent and the Concert.

The “Concert” accompanist is my favorite. I adore singing with an accomplished musician who can make a piano sound like an entire orchestra. I only know of three musicians who do this at auditions. I’m sure there are more I just haven’t sang with them yet. My favorite was an artistic director who would come from behind the table to play my audition. That was working together to make music. And the music never sounded better.

Many singers don’t appreciate having a Concert pianist play for them at auditions. I hear them when they come out of the room. They kvetch about the accompanist’s over-playing. These singers believe they are being upstaged by their accompaniment. I think this is kind of strange.

In an audition situation you lack all of the things you would have during a performance: costumes, lights, sound, staging, other actors and an orchestra.  In an audition an actor has to mentally create them. If there is some way to physically manifest one of two of these things it can only help not hinder the actor. I dress to subtly suggest a role and I pray for a concert pianist sitting on the bench. Then there are two less things I have to think about; I’ve got my costume and I certainly have my orchestra.

The vast majority of accompanists fall into another category: “Competent”. They’re pleasant toward you. They listen to your phrasing and they breathe with you. They adequately play what’s written on the page and let you do your magic. I can totally live with that. The ones I can’t live with are the “Crazy” ones.

I’ve been recently stretching and trying out songs and roles that are typically outside of my comfort zone. The roles are ones that I’m told I can play, I just don’t think of myself portraying them. I have no idea why, but I do know that’s another blog. At one such audition I encountered a Crazy accompanist. This man believed the spotlight was on him.

I walked into the room and the accompanist was talking to the people behind the table. No big deal. I walk over to him and in a very loud overpowering voice he says to me “So what are you singing today?”

“I’m going to sing XYZ.”

“Great choice. We haven’t heard that one yet today.”

In my head he conversation continued: Great. Did I need to know this? No. Although given that it’s 430pm and the audition is only going for another hour I doubt you’ll hear my song again. If you do, it definitely will not be the arrangement that I’ve had written out for me.

Outside of my head in the real world I began to explain my music. In the middle of the process he proceeds to tell me that he knows the song and he’ll just follow me.

Perfect.

As I’m walking away from the piano he begins playing.

Awesome.

I get to the center of the room and decide to take back control of my audition.  I turn to look at him, smiling, as if to say “NOW you can start playing.” I turn front and nothing.

At this point all I could do was act the hell out of the silence. Finally he gave me my first note and proceeded to play the intro again. And off we went.

The accompanist did indeed follow me. In fact he only played the cords associated with words and nothing else. I’d sing a word and he’d hit a cord. I’d sing a word and he’d hit a cord. Not really a big deal...until the end of the song.

For a greater dramatic effect I speak the last line of the song after the music is played. I never got to tell him that because he basically shooed me away from the piano. So I stand there. I’m waiting for him. He’s waiting for me. And we’re both waiting. 

And we’re waiting. 

Again I’m acting the hell out of that silence. Finally I just thought I gotta do this or we’ll be here all day.

I truly have no idea why but the woman behind the table was enrapt. By the end of the song she looked like a 1950’s school girl staring at her one true love. She literally had her elbows on the table, her chin cradled in her hands with her head slightly tilted to the side with a dreamy look on her face. Where she went in her head I don’t know, but I do know that I took her there with little to no help from the accompanist.

After she came out from under the spell she told me my audition was beautiful. She then said she didn’t know the song and asked where was it from. The accompanist jumped into the conversation and loudly answered. By doing so he took away a very important moment, a moment to further connect with the person behind the table. There’s a reason the people behind that table ask you questions. They want to see and hear you outside of performing. They want to asses you as a person or maybe they just want more information.

The woman thanked me for coming in and I thanked here for seeing me. I walked over to the piano to get my music. Before I could thank the accompanist he began a conversation...with the woman behind the table.

”So you know it’s my anniversary today right?”

Ugh! What the hell?

The woman behind the table had no chance to process and store the audition that just happened.  Nor did she have a chance to further interact with me. The opportunity to really cement a lasting impression was lost. The role was lost. The accompanist hijacked my audition and there was nothing I could do about it.  There is literally no way to deal with this without coming off looking like you’re a difficult diva. And it drives me crazy.

The fourth and final type of accompanist I call “Cacophonous”. This is the accompanist who, no matter what song you’re singing and what’s written on the page, plays something that sounds neither like the song you’re singing or any song that’s ever been written on any page. Luckily there are only a handful of these accompanists around. I know them. If I see one of their names as the person at the piano I know what to expect. So I’ll go in with something I don’t need accompaniment for because what I’ll hear will not be recognizable anyway. I’ll sing something that I can sing on my death bed, with my vocal cords slit, on my last breath of air, and still sound great. Everyone has that song. If you don’t have one, get one. Get one now. It’s the only way to combat the Cacophonous accompanist.

There are ways of working with the other three types of accompanists. And it’s all up to you. For all of them (including the Cacophonous) you need to have your homework done before you walk into the audition space. Your homework as an educated singer is to have your music clearly printed. It needs to be in non-glare sheet protectors. It needs to be arranged in a binder the same way a book would be printed, with music on the front and the back of each individual page

Each individual song should be able to be played from start to finish without going back on itself. This means getting the music arranged to eliminate all repeats, codas, da capos and any other markings that causes the accompanist to go searching on a previous page for what to play next.

In that same vain, if there is a shortened introduction, skipped measures or skipped pages, they should be physically cut from the sheet music. What you don’t want played shouldn’t be on the page. This is the digital age. It’s no longer acceptable to have measures scratched out or pages clipped together. How many times is the accompanist going to be blamed for playing something he shouldn’t when the paper clip falls out or when it’s not clearly marked? There are people who make a living arranging and cleaning up sheet music. If you don’t know of any ask me. I’ll give you some names. Hell I can even do it for you. I personally clean and mark all of my sheet music myself.

Speaking of which, all the individual things you do during your song (i.e. poco a poco accelerando, subito piano and any and all dynamics) should be clearly marked and pointed out to the accompanist. This is especially true if you sing a phrase contrary to the way it’s known to be done. I personally mark all of these things in red. Some accompanists, especially those who fall under “Concert” and the better “Competent” ones, may take exception to this. One particularly brilliant pianist/musical director told me that he finds it offensive that I mark things in red. I told him “It’s not for you. It’s for the other hundreds of accompanists who can’t adequately read music or even play a standard piece.” I’ve also been told on more than a few occasions how clear my sheet music is.

Accompanists are not mind readers. If you want something done you have to tell them. It’s your responsibility as the singer to give them all the necessary information. It’s the simplest way to get what you want and take control of your audition. When you’re in control of the audition the stress factor decreases greatly giving you an air of ease and confidence.

One of the most important things that must be given to the accompanist is the tempo. You have to dictate the tempo at which you want the song played. Otherwise how will they know how fast or slow to play your version of the song.

To set a tempo you can clap it out, snap it out, conduct it out or beat it out on your leg. But you must set it beforehand. Be aware though that some accompanists may get upset at how you go about setting your tempo. That’s their issue. As long as you don’t touch them or the piano you’re golden.

Once you get to know who the accompanists are you can begin to gauge what you tell them. One of the three Concert pianists I know will not take a tempo. He will play your song brilliantly and in the exact tempo you want, but he will not listen to you dictate it beforehand. I know this. So when I see his name as the accompanist I know to skip dictating the tempo. It’ll be done just the way I want it. For any other accompanists I am Mr. Metronome.

After you’ve set a tempo ask the accompanist to please wait before playing. Let them know that you’ll give them a sign that’s it’s time to begin. The slight head nod is most commonly used. Anything is acceptable as long as it doesn’t draw attention to itself. In other words subtlety is key.

You as the actor should be in control of the audition. So before one beautiful note is set free a professional prepared singer must:

     Make sure the music is properly marked and laid out

     Introduce yourself to the accompanist and tell him what you’re singing

     Place your music on the piano opened to the title page of the song

     Inform the accompanist if the song has been cut or arranged

     Indicate where to start and where to finish

     Point out any special markings (including key changes, meter changes and clef changes)

     Give tempo

     Ask the accompanist to wait until you’re ready before playing

     Walk to center of room

     Indicate when you’re ready

And then you sing.

Yes all of this is a long process. It takes practice to do it smoothly and quickly. But all of it is necessary.

There are too many uncontrollable variables in vocal auditions. The biggest of which is the accompanist. How long has he or she been playing? Is he or she accomplished? Will he or she play the correct tempo? Can he or she play my song? Is he or she tired, or angry or blasé? As a prepared, knowledgeable and professional Singer you can all but eliminate most if not all potential issues through your communication.

Theatre is about communication whether it be physical, spoken or sung. And a you can never know how closely the people behind the table are watching the communication between the Singer and the accompanist.

One time I went to an EPA for a high profile production. I gave the entire spiel listed above to the accompanist. Then we went about singing my song. The director, who happened to be sitting behind the table, commented on how smooth and seamless everything was. He also said it seemed as if the accompanist and I had been singing together for years. I got called back.

Maybe it was my talent. But there are more talented actors around.

Maybe it was my look. But there are tons of actors who look like me or even better versions of me.

Maybe it was my personality. But there are nicer, more wholesome and more optimistic actors than me.

Or maybe, just maybe, the thing that tipped the scale in my favor was how I conducted myself with the accompanist. How polished and professional that made me appear. Honestly I don’t know which combination of things lead to it, but I do know I got to be in front of the “people behind the table” again. Outside of an actual contract that’s all you can work toward.

Give yourself a fighting chance to get back in front of the people behind the table. Give yourself a fighting chance to get the contract. Simply impart all the necessary information to the accompanist. Speak to them like they’re a valuable asset to your audition, if only because they are. Otherwise you could end up...

“Singing a song of angry men...”